Poor, little, Rich Boy
by SherlockSmile
Summary: A look at how Robert Fischer hated his teenage years, hated his father, detested his life.


**a/n: **_Wow, seriously wow... this movie! This freakin movie has been messing with my mind. I'm actually going crazy, literally! Anyway during the film I kept my eye on Fischer, which has nothing to do with my massive crush on Cillian... Anyway, he always looked so sad, (obviously with his dad) but also disconnected. Anyway this is a view from Robert's mind. Almost like his dialogue, without it being his dialogue, get me?_

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Robert Fischer Jr. What the audience perceived him to be was the stereo-typical; poor, little rich boy. And in all fairness, Robert couldn't deny such an allegation.

His feelings were numb when it came to his mother. She died when he was young, not even a photograph was kept so he could look at his mothers face. He wanted to see her elegant complexion stare back at him, he wanted to see the resemblance of those sharp blue eyes Peirce his, he wanted to see a parent smile back at him warmly, even if it was a still-frame. But as if his father would hold onto an sentimental value to begin with, like his father cared that his son wanted to know of his mother. Yes, Robert had no emotional hold onto his mother, just like his father wanted. His father wanted a lot of things for Robert; success, determination, intelligence. All of which Robert had, but was it good enough? Not in the slightest. Robert never gave up trying to Impress the only person he loved yet detested. As he tried aimlessly to follow in his father footsteps as a teenager, his father just snickered and pushed him aside. He hated himself for loving him. Worse than that, he hated the name they shared.

_Fischer_. The name echoed shallowness every time it sounded. Robert didn't have an interesting personality, he was distant, secluded; caught up in his own thoughts to regrade another. Never letting anyone know the true him, _not that anyone truly cared_. Yet his name, his name was what caught peoples attention. At the age of 15, girls suddenly swarmed him, wanting to talk to him... wanting him. He silently disregarded them, knowing of there intentions. Then his friends, if you could call them that, were the same. Wanting to be part of his invisible gang so they could be known. They didn't like him, but they forced themselves to believe they did. He would go to the neccasery parties, hang-out with the neccasery people, do the neccasery things. It was what he was trained to do. "Feelings mean nothing, ignore em. Actions son, actions get you places." His father would say to him, his only advice to a confused teenager with no sense in life.

Therefore teenage life wasn't pleasant for him, everything around him was fake; a facade of happiness that even he couldn't imitate. So he confided himself in Movies and books. Dreaming of a life where everything was placed in the 'grey' area. No right or wrong, no bad or good. Because in his world, bad and wrong were classed as right and good. In his world everything was artificial.

When he hut his 20's, he got his very first girlfriend. She was perfect in his eyes. She read the same literature, watched the same films, had the same opinions. And she grew up normally, not knowing that much of the Fischer empire. But of-course, his father unapproved. She didn't have supermodel looks, didn't have much money, actually worked... his father was out-ragged. So what did he do? He paid her off. Knowing how much Robert had found true happiness in his life, he still went ahead and took away the only person his son had connected with. And how much did it take? 5 thousand dollars. And to think that's how much one of Roberts suits cost. It was that little. He would have happily bought her what she wanted, what she needed... Because he thought she didn't care about the money. He thought she cared for him. He'd been wrong.

So Robert suffered in silence. Hating the world around him, he continued. He had to. He should be happy. He had a father, a house(s), a job, money... Yet he would trade it in a second. He would trade the pathetic excuse he had for a life. Yes he could have any object he desired, any girl he could dream of, but still he didn't care. In the most cliche sense, all he wanted was love.

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**_Note: _**_So whatcha think? In-no it was short, I was going to go more into detail but I didn't know what you guys would think... So tell me! **Please Review, **and make your fellow Inception fan happy :D_


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